


The 5 Times Ryan Got Beard Burn | And The 5 Times He Fucking Loved It

by mae428



Category: Olympics RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:39:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7961017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mae428/pseuds/mae428
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>Prompt:</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>anything with (maybe retired, or just not in training) michael growing a beard out (and maybe having some chest hair too, because he just doesn't /need/ to shave anymore; reference: http://67.media.tumblr.com/81a96f4e1b1886340ab11ec924f36fc9/tumblr_oc25w8uFH61s925xlo7_500.jpg) and ryan ends up with beard burn in several different places.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The 5 Times Ryan Got Beard Burn | And The 5 Times He Fucking Loved It

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [georgiehensley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgiehensley/pseuds/georgiehensley) in the [Rio2016SummerPhlochteFic_a_thon](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Rio2016SummerPhlochteFic_a_thon) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> anything with (maybe retired, or just not in training) michael growing a beard out (and maybe having some chest hair too, because he just doesn't /need/ to shave anymore; reference: http://67.media.tumblr.com/81a96f4e1b1886340ab11ec924f36fc9/tumblr_oc25w8uFH61s925xlo7_500.jpg) and ryan ends up with beard burn in several different places.

-1-

"Babe, are you _sure_ you don't want to do Tokyo?"

Ryan must've asked Michael a hundred times. And it was only a few month out of Rio.

"Ryan, I swear. Ask me again and I'm going to-"

"Kill me, yeah yeah, I got it." Ryan rolled his eyes and hopped up onto the kitchen counter, watching Michael cook dinner. They'd gone to the gym together nearly every single day since the games, so Mike still had all of his muscle. But he'd let his beard and body hair grow back in, and Ryan couldn't say he hated it. It made Michael look so...burly. Was that the right word? Ryan was debating that in his mind as he watched Michael, trying to come up with a better word until the other man completely distracted him. Michael came right up into Ryan's space, standing between his legs.

"Hi," Ryan murmured, lips hovering over Michael's.

"Hey," Mike whispered in response, and Ryan could feel Michael's beard already ticking his lips. Mike's long arms wrapped around Ryan, tugging him close. Ryan's legs wrapped around Michael's waist, his arms winding around Michael's neck.

Suddenly, Michael's lips were on Ryan's in a slow and steady kiss. Ryan let out the smallest sound, pulling Michael even closer, if at all possible. He loved kissing Michael like this. Sure it was fun when their kisses were intense and impossibly fast, but Ryan also liked the more relaxed kisses. The ones where he could take his time exploring Michael's mouth, making him moan softly. Tasting Michael and memorizing the way his lips feel.

Yeah, Ryan fucking loves this. Absolutely loves when he can take his time with Michael and really _feel_ everything.

Their kitchen timer goes off twenty five minutes later, and Michael pulls back, the two of them breathless. Ryan grins and leans in for another quick peck before Michael gets the chicken out of the oven. Ryan rubs his fingers over his lower lip and chin. His skin stings slightly, but he's gotten used to it over the past few weeks. Michael's beard has given him practically permanent beard burn on his lips.

But he doesn't care. As long as it's from Michael. And Ryan fucking loves it.

-2-

Ryan's neck is perhaps the most sensitive spot on his body. And Michael knows that. Has known it since the first time they kissed. Ryan remembers it clearly: Michael brushing his fingers over that spot, immediately sending a shiver down his spine.

Touches turned to kisses turned to licks turned to nibbles turned to full on, dark hickeys (when they weren't going to be on camera).

And Ryan fucking loved hickeys. The way Mike marked him up, leaving little trails over his skin. He fucking loved it because when he would look in the mirror, he knew that he belonged to Mike.

Hickeys with Michael's new facial hair was on a whole other level. When Mike dipped his head to kiss at Ryan's neck, the scratchy hair dragged along Ryan's smooth skin, leaving a small red trail behind. Now, in addition to a deep purple bruise, Ryan was left with a little red patch that stung a bit.

But he doesn't care. As long as it's from Michael. And Ryan fucking loves it.

-3-

Ryan doesn't really understand Michael's obsession with his nipples. They're just...nipples. But hey, he doesn't want to complain. Not when Michael spends so much time licking and sucking and playing with them.

"Fuck, Ry," Michael slurred as his tongue lapped across Ryan's nipple.

He groaned and carded his fingers through Michael's hair. "Y-Yeah?" Ryan asked, breath hitching.

"Yeah, babe. So...so fucking hot." Michael moved from one nipple to the other, scraping his chin across Ryan's chest as he did so.

Ryan hissed and arched up, needing more.

"You like that, babe?" Mike asked with a smirk, glancing up at Ryan as he tugged at Ryan's nipple with his teeth. He moved to the other one again, deliberately dragging his chin across Ryan's smooth chest, reiterating that stinging red mark.

But he doesn't care. As long as it's from Michael. And Ryan fucking loves it.

-4-

"Mike...Micha-- _fuck_..."

If blow jobs were an Olympic sport, Ryan was sure Mike would have way more than 23 golds. His apparently absent gag reflex (and love for Ryan's cock) was heaven sent.

He currently had Ryan's dick down his throat, his lips pressed to the base, and he looked up at Ryan from under his lashes. It took every ounce of self control for Ryan not to thrust into that warm, wet mouth.

Ryan was shaved clean. Everywhere. He figured if he had to do the majority of his body, he may as well go all the way. Michael's beard was currently pressed against the smooth skin of his groin and balls and, while it both tickled and scratched, it felt _amazing_.

Michael began bobbing his head in a slow, steady rhythm. Ryan just ran his fingers through Mike's hair, letting the other man set the pace. Each time Michael drew back, his beard hairs would scrape gently over the underside of Ryan's cock. And every time he plunged forward, the hairs rubbed against Ryan's skin.

After a few minutes, Ryan began to move his hips, slowly at first. He picked up his pace once he knew that Michael was comfortable and began pressing forward each time his cock hit the back of Michael's throat. Ryan came fast and hard, pressing his hips al the way forward as he did so, holding Michael's head where it was, feeling those hairs press against him.

Later, after they'd both gotten each other off and made out, Ryan had his head on Michael's chest, fingers tracing patterns over the hair that was growing in.

"I like the hair," he said, looking up at Michael with a smile. Ryan reached up to run his fingers over Michael's bearded jaw. "Especially this. And especially when I'm fucking your mouth." Sure, Ryan now had a red and slightly irritated patch on his groin...

But he doesn't care. As long as it's from Michael. And Ryan fucking loves it.

-5-

They were on the couch, watching the Ravens game, empty pizza and wings boxes littering the coffee table. Ryan was sat between Michael's legs, and Michael was lying across the couch, back up against the armrest. He had both his arms wrapped around Ryan, holding him close.

"Dude, do we have to watch this?" Ryan asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, babe. Shut up," came Michael's immediate response.

Ryan tilted his head to look up at Michael, but the man's eyes were glued to the TV, carefully watching each play. Usually Ryan was fine with this, but he'd had a particularly hard swim that morning, and all he wanted was for Michael to fuck him before he passed the fuck out.

Mike pressed his lips against Ryan's temple, his eyes still trained on the television. This was how they usually watched the game: Mike's eyes on the TV, but his lips at Ryan's temple as he murmured stats or alternate plays or cheered for the Ravens.

This time, with each kiss to his temple and with each murmured word, Michael's beard scraped against Ryan's skin. The sensation caused a shiver to roll down Ryan's spine. The hairs rubbed against the same spot over and over, reminding Ryan that Michael was right there next to him.

But he doesn't care. As long as it's from Michael. And Ryan fucking loves it.


End file.
